


lessons in honesty

by gazing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Character Study, Communication, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Love, Fluff, Forgiveness, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Healing, Love Confessions, Love Language, M/M, Pining, Regret, Secret Crush, Tenderness, Tension, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gazing/pseuds/gazing
Summary: "I'm practicing being honest." Remus says.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	lessons in honesty

**Author's Note:**

> “If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.” (Jane Eyre)
> 
> ♡
> 
> "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered." (The Great Gatsby)
> 
> ♡
> 
> snape has been teaching at hogwarts for around 6 years, and remus 3. this is all about what might've happened if they forgave each other and themselves earlier<3

Severus ducks under the door.

He brushes a long strand of dark hair from his face as he peers through the darkness of the Defence Against the Dark Arts room. The only light comes from the dark arched windows, making rays of dim moonlight cast shadows among the old wood. The tables and chairs have been stacked at the sides of the room in hazardous piles probably made by the students, and Severus sniffs at the sight as he steps through the shadows towards the long desk at the front of the room. His cloak sways gently behind him.

He knows this room well. In truth Severus had wanted it to be his own, once. When he started teaching potions, as Dumbledore requested, the urge to be professor the dark arts had died a little - there was something in the art of the cauldron that tempered his desire to teach the dark arts. He hardly thinks of it now, after a few years of teaching, even as he carries the heavy cauldron to the desk. His thin arms strain under its weight, pale skin tightening as his muscles work.

"Lupin?" Severus asks, through the shadows.

His voice is cold and hardly welcoming, but he doesn't bite. Not yet. Since Remus Lupin had begun teaching here three years ago (finally accepting the post Dumbledore offered him after he first graduated, Severus assumes) he'd become unexpectedly used to the werewolf. Severus has never forgotten what Remus and his friends did to him. He probably won't ever be able to erase it from his memory, even with occlumency). But secretly he thinks that shared grief has a way of softening old wounds.

The room responds with silence. Severus reaches the desk and places the full cauldron on the desk with a gentle thud. The potion is steaming, so Severus's palms are red. He'd been tasked with making Wolfsbane for Lupin when he arrived, and after a few failed experiments he'd managed to create a concoction that was effective enough to keep Lupin and the students safe. It needed some work, even now - Severus doesn't miss the fresh wounds on Remus's arms and neck every month, and those are the just the injuries he can see under Remus' large sweaters and his worn cloak. Every month he shudders with the thought that the potion might go wrong.

"Sleeping on the job." Severus drawls, looking down at Remus' form slumped over the desk. "How professional."

Severus looks down at the parts of his colleague he can see underneath Remus' long, messy hair and his oversized clothes. He's pale, and a few scratches on his cheek and neck are the only colour on his skin. Though his eyes are shut there are frown lines deep on his forehead and a tightness to his jaw that betrays how tense he is - and how sad that is, Severus thinks, to not be able to escape the stress and chaos of daily life even in sleep. Though he himself is always anxious, his homemade draughts assure he has deep sleep, warm and empty through the entire night. The thought crosses his mind that perhaps he could lend Remus a few, but he dismisses it.

Remus is lying on an old journal, his arms crossed under his head. He snuffles in sleep and murmurs something incomprehensible. His glasses are askew and piercing his cheek.

"What are we going to do with you, hm?"

The glasses are causing Remus' cheek to sore, and Severus knows the feeling - staying up late reading had resulted in many reading glasses related injuries, and he hardly wants to impose that on another person. Stiffly, he reaches forward and takes the glasses from Remus' face before folding them and placing them on the desk next to the book. Underneath Remus' head Severus can see words scrawled in Remus' handwriting, but he knows better than to look at the journal. His own drawings and diaries had been stolen and made fun of when he was a student at Hogwarts. No one, not even Remus Lupin, deserves that feeling. It was the equivalent of digging into their mind.

"You're welcome." Severus says sarcastically. He takes one last thoughtful look at the man and is about to turn away when Remus' dark amber eyes open.

Remus blinks, eyelashes fluttering, and when he rubs his face he looks so young and vulnerable that it's disarming. When his gaze finally focuses, he flinches away from Severus, and so Severus takes an affronted step backwards. Some things, he thinks bitterly, never change.

"Severus. Did you need something?" Remus asks quietly, all danger and caution, and Severus wonders how much of his life he's been drawn so tightly like a pulled string. Even in his years as a student at Hogwarts, when most are bright eyed and relaxed, Remus had been anxious and quick to defend himself. As much as he was loud and laughing with his friends he was also always on edge. Severus could tell even before the revelation that he suffered from lyncanthropy that Remus had been through more than he would dare to say.

"I brought wolfsbane, as you can see." Severus gestures to the cauldron. "And would have earlier, if you hadn't been napping."

Remus raises his eyebrows, this time amusement rising on his face. Severus has always wondered how their senses of humour could be so similar - on more than one occasion at dinner his sharp wit had caused Remus to laugh out loud, and it's confusing to him, that a man so obnoxiously polite takes such delight in his humour. Nobody else, he realises suddenly, quirks even a smile at his hissed remarks.

"I apologise. I was doing a spot of writing and I seem to have... drifted off." Remus rubs the back of his neck. "Merlin."

"I would recommend getting enough rest in future."

"If only it were that easy. Lately, I-" Remus pauses and his face closes off.

Severus knows that he wants to talk, needs to express his discomfort and his worries with someone, but Severus his understandably not the person he wants to share them with. In fact Severus wonders if Remus has a friend left in the world. With James, Lily, and Peter dead, Harry with another family and Sirius imprisoned in Askaban, Severus is sure he's quite alone. He realises there's an ache in his own chest. He, too, knows loneliness all too well. Lily had been his only friend. Perhaps if Remus spoke to him...

But Remus is already turning away, placing his journal carefully in his desk and pulling on his cloak over his worn sweater. There have been times where they have walked stiffly together through the corridors in silence, their arms brushing under their cloaks every now and then. Severus has remembered these moments. He finds them unreal and interesting. As he walks with Remus he sees shadows of their old selves on the wall, and he thinks of this now as Remus buttons up his cloak.

"It's late." Remus sighs, and doesn't look up at him. "Goodnight."

Remus is taking an awfully long time to pull on his red and yellow scarf. He wraps it slowly, tying quite a few knots, and Severus should take the hint and leave. He wants to press Remus more, wants to taunt him until a sliver of honesty or sunshine gleams through his exhaustion. But Remus will not meet his eyes. 

So Severus turns away with a scowl through the shadows, his cloak flying behind him.

"Severus." Remus says quietly. Severus pauses and looks over his shoulder to meet Remus' eyes through the dark classroom. An understanding passes between them and not for the first time Severus wonders if there is perhaps a universe where they might have become friends. "Thank you, again."

Unwilling to break the moment, Severus gives a curt nod. 

"Let me give you a piece of advice." Severus says. "You can shape your life through honesty."

"What?"

"I am telling you that no good comes from pretence. If you are tired, rest."

There's a silence. Severus is disorientated by Remus' small smile. What secrets are in these shadows, he thinks. What ghosts of the past follow him as he walks out of the door.

♡

It is an undeniable fact that while Severus always arrives at breakfast, Remus Lupin rarely does.

In his first few weeks as a professor he'd stumbled into the Great Hall in the early morning, his shirt creased and his buttons done up wrong, and collapsed into his seat. After the first month he'd promptly given up, and the students, as well as Severus, are now familiar with the empty seat at the teacher's table during breakfast.

Though Remus' absence should be a relief, Severus has found over time that he quite enjoys the mornings that Remus manages to make it to breakfast. When they sit together under the early sunshine, Remus is noticeably less tense. There's sometimes pumpkin juice staining his mouth, and he often tells tales of his travels around Europe, when he'd helped others with lyncanthropy. There's an honesty to him under the gleams of sunshine that Severus finds he rather likes. Not enough to consider Remus a friend - there is too much history between them for that. But enough that some of his anger and bitterness fades like a scar over time.

It's another one of those mornings, today. Today Remus is sitting at the table, and though his chin is on his hand and his eyes are hazy, he's definitely awake. He's talking to Professor McGonagall, and Severus glances at him every now and again out of the corner of his eye. These days he sometimes feel like the naive young boy who had fallen for Lily's friend Remus, the pale, sweet Gryffindor, who's eyes seemed to hold mysteries. That had changed when James and Sirius began to taunt him, and Remus stood idly by. It had changed, too, when a beast had almost killed him. But on these mornings when the sunshine hits Remus' hair Severus deludes himself that, perhaps, nothing much had really changed at all.

After all, people are more than appearances. Severus knows that better than anyone. His own heart and soul is layered beneath his frosty exterior. Perhaps if he were older and more bitter he'd resent Remus Lupin entirely - he might even try to sabotage his work at Hogwarts out of jealousy and sadness. But as it is some youth still clings to him. He's glad, suddenly, that he had turned away from the dark arts. Even if it was too late, he is grateful he left Voldemort behind.

"Have you ever visited France, Severus?"

Severus pauses, the taste of coffee warm in his mouth.

"I can't say I have." He says, slightly amused.

"Oh, it's delightful. The food is heavenly. There's this muggle pastry shop, and oh Merlin," Remus sprays crumbs onto the table, and Severus sniffs, "I've never tasted anything like it."

"What business did you have in France?"

"Werewolves don't just reside in England, you know. I travelled there for work." Remus laughs, "Bon soir."

Severus is so amused by Remus' pleased face that he doesn't correct his French. There's something about the glint in his eyes that reminds Severus of sunshine. Severus dislikes the sun. He despises the heat and the brightness that comes every summer, and always wishes for the winter to come swiftly. Dark evenings and the chill are comforts he prefers. But subtle, low sun does have its charms, Severus supposes. Remus' sort of sunshine.

The bottle in his cloak suddenly feels very heavy. Severus wraps his fingers around the cold glass and feels a flush crawl up his neck. He thinks his meal must've been poisoned - can think of no other explanation than foul play for the way he feels uncomfortably warm. He may start convulsing any moment now.

"Yes, well, the French are great, but there's nothing quite like England." Remus sighs happily. Despite the shadows under his eyes there's a lightness to him, and Severus knows it's because it's still quite early in the moon's cycle. Severus knows by heart the moon's monthly path, how it brightens and halves. Sometimes he feels as if he were the werewolf. "The smell of rain, homecooked food, a cup of tea..."

"Are you ever quiet, Lupin?" Severus says, with no bite. Remus' eyes sparkle.

"I'm afraid not, Severus."

"I'm quite prepared to hand in my resignation." Severus says, "Perhaps then I'll have a single day of peace."

"Yes, but things would be significantly less entertaining," Remus smiles, "Don't you think?"

"Entertainment," Severus drawls, "Oh, I shudder to think of it."

"Your life leaves much to be desired then."

There is a line, Severus thinks, between easy conversation and insults, and he never knows which side the two of them are on. In the mornings it almost seems like a game, moving a chess piece under the sunlight. Sometimes they look at each other with the same contempt of youth. But Remus' eyes seem clear now. 

"I do not expect someone who sleeps on desks to understand."

"A low blow, Severus." Remus laughs. Still, Severus can't help but notice the redness around his eyes from lack of sleep.

Severus takes the bottle from his pocket and slams it onto the table. 

The liquid glitters purple, swaying slightly from Severus' force.

"Merlin, you gave me a fright!" Remus laughs.

"Take it."

Remus blinks at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"Take it." Severus hisses, and pulls his cloak up to his cheeks to hide his face.

Remus reaches forward to take the bottle in his calloused hands. His dark fingers wrap around the bottle, and Severus swallows.

"What is it?" Remus asks, glancing at him curiously. There's a hint of suspicion in his eyes that cuts Severus. Shouldn't it be him, who mistrusts this werewolf, this bystander from his childhood? Why would Remus fear him?

"When I was clearing out my pantry, I found a spare sleeping draught." Severus lies. It sits uncomfortably in his mouth. In truth he'd made extra, this month. But that's a truth that would reveal too much about him, and it's one of the only things he'll lie for. Lessons in honesty only extend so far. "I thought it might be useful. Think nothing of it."

The surprise on Remus' face stings. But then his eyes crinkle as a smile blooms on his face, and it reflects sunshine. No one looks at Severus with such... fondness. He has faced contempt, disgust, mocking. More rarely has he been presented with loyalty and love. Severus scowls at the Remus' grateful smile - it's so unfamiliar to him.

"It will certainly prevent any further incidents like last week." Severus grumbles. "I might remind you that there is a certain level of professionalism to maintain when working here, Lupin."

"You did this for me?"

Severus pauses, his ears turning red.

"As I said, think nothing of it." He says, "It is more for the benefit of the school than you."

Even at Severus' sharp tone, Remus' smile stays bright as starlight, as the rays of sunshine on Remus' glass of pumpkin juice. Severus is startled by the sweetness of his smile. He has seen it before, throughout years at Hogwarts, but never before was it directed towards him. If he were a weaker man, he might melt underneath it.

"Thank you, Severus." Remus says. Usually he says Severus' name with a sort of bite, a feigned politeness that hides distrust and laughter beneath it. But now he speaks with a slight warmth. Severus finds he can't sustain his scowl for much longer, and turns to stare at the tables of students instead. 

"I've always been curious," Remus says. Severus sees him trace the rim of the bottle with the tip of his finger, "Why do you continue to teach potions, when it has always been the dark arts that intrigued you the most?"

The Great Hall is bustling with students, all of them talking over each other and laughing. But beside Remus, Severus feels a quiet peace settle over him. He doesn't quite understand it. He dislikes the man beside him, with his bright eyes and hard spirit, yet sitting and having a conversation with him is surprisingly comfortable. He has compared it to a chess game - but Severus finds those sort of things comfortable, and thinks that he wouldn't mind a game of chess with Remus, just once.

"You speak as if we are friends," Severus drawls, "Why would I reveal such information to you?"

"It's a simple question," Remus says, placing the bottle inside of his robes. "Or is it not?"

Severus pauses, considering.

"I've found that the art of making potions is rather beautiful." Severus says quietly. "Unless you study it daily, you will never understand how simple and yet poignant brewing is. The process itself is bland to some, though I find the math and delicacy of it gorgeous. But it's the end result that holds the mystery. Your creation could be sweet, or it could be as dangerous as the most lethal of curses. I have found that conflict stimulating."

"I see." Remus hums. He seems to be listening. How long has it been since someone paid attention to Severus' ideas? "Have you considered training as an apothecary?"

"Briefly." Severus admits. "For now I am content. During the holidays I tend to sell potions in my spare time. Not brewing for too long gives me a sort of withdrawal."

Remus smile widens.

"What?" Severus snaps.

"Nothing," Remus says warmly, "It's just that you seem to love what you do very much. It's refreshing."

"Yes, well. I have been revising recipes since I was a boy. I suppose there is a part of me that will always be drawn to the cauldron."

Remus considers this. His eyes flicker over Severus' face.

"I..." He pauses, "I envy you, Severus. I have never found something that I am so passionate about."

"Contrary to popular belief," Severus says slowly, with none of his usual sharpness. "Life is not a straight line. You may find you stand still, or move backwards. If you find your passion tomorrow, or even in thirty years, you have still found it."

When they look at each other, there is an understanding that passes between them. It reaches across their dark history to settle warmly in the present moment. Despite the grief and anger and pain, Severus finds he doesn't particularly mind Remus' company. Not this morning. A shadow of a smile reaches Severus' face, but their gaze is broken by the scrape of Dumbledore's chair as he stands.

But when the speech ends and they stand to dismiss the students. Remus touches his shoulder gently and gives him a nod. It is an acknowledgement Severus never thought he would receive.

♡

Just as Remus is covered in wounds, Severus too has scars. 

He peers at himself in the mirror, staring at the violent red marks across his skin that will never quite heal. Whenever he looks at his thin, pale frame he is reminded of his mistakes, and the crimes he committed. Most of all he's haunted by the people he hurt. To him the scars are justified. They make sure he never forgets where is true loyalty should always lie - in goodness.

Some nights are gloomy. Memories of Severus' trauma pass by his eyes and there is not enough strength in occlumency to be able to fight it, sometimes. His hair is growing longer and when he ducks his head, his face contorted with grief, dark strands fall over his face. In the mirror he still sees evil on his skin. It hurts, and burns. His chambers are too small for his thoughts. They buzz around his bedroom, taunting him. _What have I done? When will the guilt fade?_

Severus is distracted by a knock on his chamber door. He pulls on his long dressing gown, ties it loosely, and scowls.

"Dingle, you better get your arse back Ravenclaw common room this instant. I have told you, repeatedly, that I will only tutor you during academic hours." Severus yells. "If you do not leave I promise you, I will hex you to Hogsmeade."

The knock comes again. Severus growls and throws open the door, only to freeze when he realises it isn't, in fact, a seventh year Ravenclaw.

Remus is standing with an amused smile in the doorway. He wears a crumpled shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned, and in the low lights of the bedchamber he looks darling. Almost kissable.

"Good evening, Severus."

Severus's frown fades slightly.

"What do _you_ want, Lupin?"

"Now, now, that's no way to greet your favourite professor." Remus holds up a small, empty bottle. "I came to return this."

Severus blinks and takes the bottle from him. His cold fingers brush Remus' warm ones.

"It worked a charm." Remus admits. The shadows under his eyes have certainly faded a little. "I slept like a baby. Thank you, again."

"I expected nothing less." Severus shrugs. "It is my work, after all."

Remus chuckles. It's strange, to illicit a laugh from someone, especially one that rumbles so warmly like Remus'. He finds he's pleased. It is refreshing to have someone pay attention to him, listen to him, even find him funny or charming. 

In the dark Remus' eyes flicker over his form.

"I apologise, did I disturb you?" His gaze lingers on the exposed skin of Severus' chest, and Severus pulls his dressing gown tighter around himself. 

"Yes," Severus frowns when Remus nods and goes to turn away. "Are you in the practice of playing wizarding chess, Lupin?"

Remus pauses. 

"I played a lot when I was a student, but I haven't played it for... well, several years now." Remus says, "And you?"

"It is one of my favourite past times." Severus admits. He does not tell Remus that the only reason he doesn't play it is because he has no one to play with. "But I have found no worthy opponent."

It's endearing, the way Remus' eyes light up.

"I have been told I am rather skilled."

"I doubt that very much. I have yet to be shown proof that you have any critical thinking skills."

"Isn't that a little too cruel?" Remus laughs.

"Alas," Severus takes a step backwards and holds the door open wider. "After you."

Perhaps he had drunk a little too much of the firewhiskey he keeps under his bed, because a warm glow settles in Severus' chest when Remus steps tentatively into his bedchamber. There's a small part of him that rejects Remus' presence. He should be angry, bitter, distrusting - but there's only a little discomfort inside of him when Remus looks around the dark bedchamber. 

His curtains are a silk black, his bedsheets too, as well as his dressing gown. Remus' bright eyes and beige shirt are slightly out of place.

"Forgive me." Remus laughs, nervously, and runs his hand along the dark curtain, "Being here is rather strange."

"Yes," Severus agrees, and takes a seat at his desk. The chess board unfolds itself, and Remus looks down at him. "I suppose more firewhiskey is in order."

"Well, I won't say no to that."

Remus quirks a smile and sits opposite him. His leg bounces, and his eyes dart around the room. Severus pours him a hearty glass of firewhiskey and sips quickly on his own, lets the burn of alcohol soothe his stiff muscles. Remus takes a sip and sighs gratefully.

"This is good." He hums.

Severus nods, watching the chess pieces set themselves up on the board. He thinks of the snow, which will inevitably be coming soon. He can feel it in the winter air, waiting, and knows the first touches of snowflakes on the bare tree branches will make him smile.

"Shall we?" Severus asks.

They play quietly, warmed by alcohol and the hazy bedchamber. Remus plays boldly. He's unpredictable, but also clever, and Severus supposes it's the Gryffindor in him. As the hour darkens Remus grows more animated. He throws his hands in the air in frustration when Severus makes a particularly damning move.

Remus curses under his breath, and Severus raises an eyebrow.

"Just as I expected," Severus says, "You are no match for me, Lupin."

"In chess," Remus says, "There is never a clear winner until the very last second."

"Is that so?"

"Guessing." Remus drawls. He makes a particularly calculated move that stuns Severus just slightly. "Should be kept for the crystal ball."

Severus sneaks a glance at Remus. Moonlight escapes from behind the curtain, touching the edges of his hair and his cheeks. He's leaning back in his chair, gazing back at Severus with clear eyes. His dark chest peaks out from underneath his shirt, and his shoulder length hair falls softly around his throat. He's quite delightful, with that shy confidence on his face, and Severus forgets himself for a moment.

"Your move." Remus says.

_Ah._ Severus tries to focus, though the firewhiskey has softened the edges of his vision. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and leans across the desk to grab the almost empty bottle, and his dressing gown slips over his shoulder and exposes some of his pale skin.

Remus glances at him. Severus scowls and covers himself quickly, knowing there are dark and ugly scars there. The silence is uncomfortable. Severus thinks his wounds must have reminded Remus of who he really is - it's a sober reality that returns them to who they are, and not who they want to be.

"Severus," Remus says, and it's with less spite than Severusis expecting. He still braces himself, waiting to be shunned by Remus once again. "Do you regret it? Do you feel guilty for what you have done?"

_Regret._ Severus thinks of his later years at Hogwarts, falling in with the wrong crowd who hated with their entire souls. He thinks of losing Lily. He thinks of the grave mistakes he made, that led to bloodshed. Those memories are a part of him. And Remus dares asks if he _regrets_ them? He wishes there was a stronger word.

"Would I be here if I didn't?" 

Remus pauses, his eyes flickering over Severus' face.

"I don't understand you." He says quietly, and there it is, perhaps, the root of the problem. A lack of understanding is probably the reason their past is painted in anger. Only Severus thinks that if they scratched beneath the surface they'd find they know each other in their entirety, because they're the same.

"There is no person who does."

"Yes," Remus gives him a smile he can't decipher, "I know."

The silence is thoughtful. Severus doesn't want to break it by taking his move, so he looks down at his thin, pale hands resting on the desk. 

"You're not the only one who's guilty." Remus says at last.

Severus taps his fingers against the wood.

"I..." Remus hangs his head, "I've been meaning to apologise to you, Severus, for years now."

An apology is not what he expected Remus to say. Severus looks up in the darkness, surprised, to find Remus is looking straight at him. Again an understanding passes between them, and Severus feels drunken and vulnerable and sad as he wonders where the conversation will take them next.

"When we were at Hogwarts, I should've stood up for you. I shouldn't have let the others hurt you. I think James, Sirius and Peter were good people, you know. They were just..." Remus swallows and looks away from him. "I'm sorry, truly. I'm sorry that we could've been friends, but never were."

"Knight to D4." Severus murmurs.

"A bold move." Remus says, "You've surprised me."

Severus considers him.

"Above all I value honesty." Severus says, "But I dislike you, because you are the least honest person I have ever met. I despise your artificial politeness and your secrets. You are a liar, Lupin. At least I have accepted my follies. I wear them on my skin. You _hide_ yours, and it is cowardly."

"Yes," Remus smiles, "I suppose you're right."

"And yet," Severus says quietly, and takes Remus' queen, "I do not mind playing chess with you."

"I think I could bear losing against you again." Remus gives him a crooked smile, and Severus keeps his heart close, in fear it will be stolen.

♡

Most people avoid Severus.

He got used to it early in life. He was distant from his parents, of course. The other kids found him intimidating and unapproachable, perhaps because of his sharp appearance or his even sharper words. He struggled to make friends who weren't cruel to him, like the other Slytherins. The only real friend he ever had was Lily, his best friend, and he had driven her away too.

Even now that he's an adult, he's alone. Perhaps the Professors fear him, or are disgusted by him, because he's sitting alone in The Three Broomsticks. He takes another gulp of butterbeer, unable to appreciate the warmth and comfort that the drink provides. The only professor who would sit with him would be Albus, and he is always busy on these trips. Severus is slumped in his chair, listening to the conversations and noise of the pub with a slight ache in his chest.

(It's not that he despises people. He just learned to live without them).

The door tinkles. Severus looks up, and his traitorous heart jumps when he sees Remus duck inside the pub. He shakes the snow off of his hat, his coat wrapped tightly around him, and his eyes meet Severus' through the crowd. He smiles, and it's a warm, delicate thing that Severus doesn't understand. The only person in the world who smiles at him like that, who smiles at him at _all,_ is Remus.

He finds his way through the people to Severus' table in the corner. As he walks Severus notices that the professors turn their judgemental eyes towards him, too. He supposes they are all aware Remus is a werewolf - word travels fast, and though it was meant to be a secret, there is not much that can be hidden within Hogwarts walls. Remus, like him, ignores them, and soon he's standing over Severus.

"Good afternoon, Severus" He says warmly, and most of the distrust has faded from his voice into something new, something better. "May I sit with you?"

"If you must." Severus sighs, and Remus quirks an amused eyebrow but sits beside him anyway.

Perhaps too close. As Remus unravels his scarf and pulls off his coat he brushes against Severus, a steady presence that radiates heat. Remus is a person who touches often. A hand on his shoulder, a brush against his side, these are pleasures Severus is not used to. But to Remus they are simple things. He touches everyone he meets, touches their lives too, in whatever way that may be. He finds his way through the world with his hands, for better or for worse.

"It's the first snowfall," Remus says, running a hand through his hair. Severus can see the snow falling through the windows. "Isn't it lovely?"

Remus isn't looking at him, he's gazing out into the busy pub, so Severus lets himself have that secret smile, while Remus can't catch him.

"Quite."

Severus glances at Remus out of the corner of his eye. His face is worn with exhaustion as the full moon approaches, but he looks cheerful anyway, and he turns to meet Severus' eyes.

"I take it you didn't visit Honeydukes?" Remus asks, and Severus' is blinded by his joy, his warmth, and all of it directed towards _him._ When had this happened, he thinks, startled at the feelings Remus' smile arouses in him, and why? "You don't seem the type of enjoy sweet food."

Amused, Severus doesn't dignify him with an answer.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Remus murmurs, "You mustn't tell."

"You are exceptionally irritating today, Lupin."

"I'll take that as a yes." Remus says. He opens his robes, and there's all flavours of chocolate bars shoved inside, presumably from Honeydukes. "I may have indulged in one of my guilty pleasures."

"Every day I wonder at the fact that you are legally an adult."

Remus laughs, and it's delightful, to be able to make him laugh. Severus scowls and sinks further into his chair. He takes a large gulp of butterbeer.

"I suppose this is why you are so cheerful today."

"You noticed?" Remus says, "It's a wonderful day."

"I'll admit it's tolerable." Severus says, "I do enjoy the snowfall."

"You like winter?"

"I do." Severus admits, and takes another drink.

"Oh, you're drinking butterbeer." Remus chuckles. "I didn't take you for the type."

"Then you must update your image of me." Severus shrugs. 

"The space between who I thought you were and who you actually are is narrowing." Remus smiles. "Don't you think?"

"You are sentimental today, too." Severus raises an eyebrow, "I suppose it's the magic in the snow."

A comfortable silence falls. When they sit together like this, _enjoying_ each other's company, Severus wonders if this is friendship. A slow, tentative friendship, with it's own scars. It had felt like this with Lily, once, only his heart had not stuttered when Lily's arm brushed his.

"Severus," Remus says, and then, as if reading his mind: "I have come to enjoy sitting beside you."

Severus looks at him sharply.

"I don't know how much truth is in your words, Lupin."

"I envy your honesty." Remus smiles softly, "So I'm imitating it."

Remus' scarf lies on the table, and Severus finds he wants to hide his hands, or his embarassed face, inside of it. Sitting beside Remus in a cozy corner of the room is so warm and so hazy that it feels unreal - perhaps a fantasy he dreamt in his loneliness. But it's real. Remus hands, folded on his lap, are real. His scarf, with several loose threads, is real.

Then Remus leans forward, his hand outstretched. Severus flinches away from him.

"Sorry." Remus says, shifting away from him quickly. He frowns, and Severus misses his smile already. "You just have-"

Severus wipes the butterbeer foam from his upper lip, not meeting Remus' eyes. He does not know whether he's disappointed or relieved - can't tell whether the ache inside of him is fear or tenderness. Nevertheless he shifts closer to Remus' side so that they're pressed together. _Knight to D4._ His heart pounds dangerously.

And Remus' smile returns.

♡

There are more ghosts in the Hogwarts corridors than you can see.

Severus knows this too well. As he walks through the darkness, he sees shadows of the past taunting and touching him. Lily waving at him when they passed in the corridor, beautiful red hair and sparkling eyes full of life. James' cruel hands, his dark eyes, as he hexed Severus against the wall. There is a ghost, though, that's new. Remus Lupin, curled on a windowsill in the corridor. Not reading, not looking out at the crowds of people, just gazing out into the sunshine. Severus had always been curious about him.

(Deep inside, he'd grown to want Remus Lupin for himself. Wanted him more over years, like a flower blooming, even as he despised him too).

Severus cloak flutters behind him as he turns a corner. He takes to walking at night when his thoughts are too much - and they're certainly busy lately. His mind is torn between his new friendship with Remus, playing wizarding chess most nights and joking together at breakfast, and the fears and insecurities of his youth. He's waiting for this to end. He's waiting for Remus to turn away from him. He shuns the hope inside of him that asks, _what if he stays?_

Because no one else had. Not even Lily, who had loved him as a sister. _Love,_ in all its wonder and pain, was simply not for Severus.

He wonders if he is becoming a ghost, too. A shadow finding its way through the dark castle. He has spent all of his life here, after all. The few good memories he has were here. If he were to have a home it would be Hogwarts, and that terrifies him.

Severus slips his hand inside of his robes and touches the bottle tucked inside. Another sleeping draught for Remus, that he wants to take to him yet is too shy to. It feels like an admission. A confession of a feeling he doesn't yet have a name for. How quickly Remus was changing him! Or was he simply becoming more himself?

For the first time, he ends up at Remus' door.

Severus swallows. Not in his wildest imagination did he think that he'd become friends with _Remus Lupin,_ but like clockwork they return to each other, striking again. He fears it as much as he enjoys it. With a trembling hand he reaches upwards and knocks curtly on the door of Remus' bedchamber.

There's a crash from inside of the room, like someone falling over, and then Remus' head pops around the doorway.

"Severus!" He says brightly, flustered and his hair messy, and Severus feels winded. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Yes, well..." Severus raises his eyebrows when there's a crash behind Remus, "What in Merlin's name is the matter with you, Lupin?"

"Sorry, I was just practicising a hex and it went... wrong"

"Ah." Severus' lips twitch. "As expected from you."

"Are you smiling?" Remus asks, "You are!"

"I am certainly not."

"I can see it!" Remus laughs, "Just give me a moment."

He leaves Severus outside of the door and returns moments later looking significantly less dishevelled. Remus gives him a breathless smile that startles Severus, makes him feel hot and unsteady. He's beautiful, a traitorous voice in his mind says, inside and out.

"Was there something you needed?" Remus asks.

_Need._ What Severus needs is coffee. What he needs is warm arms to hold him, _finally,_ after decades of loneliness. What he needs above all is to be understood. To be known for who he is, truly, at the very depths of his soul. Past the scars and his dark past. Past all of the small, meaningless things that people dislike him for.

"Here." Severus murmurs, and holds out the small purple bottle.

Remus takes it, his fingers brushing Severus'. He looks down at the bottle and his smile softens.

"Did you have extra again?"

"No." Severus admits. "Nor did I the first time. In truth, I made more for you in my monthly batch, in hopes it would ease your nights."

Remus doesn't look at him. For a Gryffindor he's always been rather shy, as timid as Severus is deep down, and they both avoid each other's gaze.

"Really?" He asks quietly.

Severus nods. Let the silence say what it needs to. Remus pauses, and his eyes flicker over Severus' face.

"You are so kind." He says finally, "Thank you for being honest."

"Don't misunderstand, I'm no saint. It's just that in people there is more than the brittle surface, and I'm no exception." Severus says. "I hope you have learned this."

"I have. I feel like... I _know_ you." Remus' hands twitch, as if he wants to reach towards him, but he tucks the bottle into his robes instead. "Is it the same for you?"

Honesty is dangerous, vulnerable. But Severus is tired of being alone.

"Yes." Severus admits. "I have found a friend in you."

They look at each other. And Severus thinks they must have met before, in a million other lifetimes, because surely it's not this easy. Surely his heart shouldn't be pulled towards this man, who he is supposed to dislike, who he _did_ dislike for so long, only because he knew they were so similar.

"I'm glad." Remus smiles. He steps backwards, opening the door wider as he does, and his eyes hold promise. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Severus nods and steps forward. But Remus doesn't move from the doorway, and Severus brushes past him. Freezes when he feels Remus grab his wrist, warm skin against his cold one.

"Severus." He says gently.

Severus looks up at Remus, and feels he might be drowning. This is not where he imagined himself, when he graduated from Hogwarts. He never knew there would be light in the world, but there is, there is.

"Can I trust you?" Remus asks quietly, in almost a whisper. A hushed question that betrays his fear. 

"Yes." Severus says easily, and Remus' face softens. 

"In return," He asks, "Will you trust in me?"

A pause. Severus thought he never could. But now he thinks he might.

"Yes."

Like a dam has been broken, Remus sighs, and his face opens up. Like he's unravelling. 

"I'm practicing being honest." Remus says, "And the truth is that I've always wanted you."

He leans down his forehead to touch Severus', and Severus does not flinch. Not when he can feel Remus' breath gently against his own. Not when Remus' hand trails from his wrist to his arm, and lands on his shoulder, at the space by his neck.

"You, who is so brave, and so clever, and so passionate, and so funny." Remus murmurs. "Who grew up so well, and who values honesty above all. I think I could learn to love you."

Severus has never been loved like that. Nor has he been known. He feels like breaking, like crawling inside of Remus. He wants to say, _I'm sorry,_ or, _I'm just like you. We're the same._ But he does not speak.

He leans up to move their heads and press their cheeks together, instead.

"I am not easy to love."

"Nor am I." Remus says pulling Severus closer to him. "But I feel I know you better than anyone, after these few months."

"Remus. You are the dearest person in the world to me." Severus says, "Don't hurt me."

He can feel Remus' heart through his robes, pounding violently. Remus arms are wrapped around his back, and he kisses Severus deeply. It feels like an extension of their conversation. An understanding through touch that makes his legs weak. He can feel Remus trembling.

Then it's over, as delightful in its end as in its beginning, and Severus presses his head against Remus chest. Remus pulls him into a tight hug.

"I won't." Remus says, and Severus trusts that it's honest.

**Author's Note:**

> so this came out of my idea that. if remus had went to work at hogwarts early on, while they were both grieving and severus wasnt yet so worn down from being a spy for sO LONG, they might have gotten along better. obviously its wishful thinking but creative freedom and all that ;) 
> 
> anyway i've never written snupin before but i fell in love with them a few years ago when i read a fic and i've just been lurking until now LOLL. i'm not even interested in harry potter, just the two of them tbh. 
> 
> writing this made me so happy i just want them to be comfortable and safe and loved <3


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